


When She Dies

by mostlikely-shutup (wolfie119)



Category: Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, I'm trying, dead!laura, mourning!carmilla
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:52:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5194592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfie119/pseuds/mostlikely-shutup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura was brave.</p><p>She was brave and she was stupid.</p><p>What was she thinking going after Mother?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When She Dies

It was dark in the cave, but it was loud.

Carmilla could hear the fighting, the struggle. She could hear the grunts of the Zetas and Summers to either side of her, but she wasn't focused on that.

She was focused on the light coming out of the pit and the figures to the side of it.

\---------

The Dean had come at her as shadows, as crows. She was scratching at her with birds' talons. When she had transformed back, she began slashing at her again, this time with claws and teeth. Her nails were stained red and her eyes were black. 

Her teeth were sharper than knives as they cut into her skin, over and over. She would rip out mounds of flesh each time, blood spewing out as she did.

Laura had no way of fighting back.

The Dean was stronger, faster, and Laura was unprepared, even if she had come with a whole legion behind her. 

The Dean was more experienced with fighting, as she had been doing it for millennia. 

Carmilla arrived to see Laura lying on the ground, blood spattered on her clothes and pooling around her.

Lilita was laughing above her, a gleeful sound amidst Carmilla's world falling apart, again.

She transformed, charging her Mother and tackling her. Even with the element of surprise, Carmilla was quickly overpowered.

The sword was her only hope.

Too bad the sword was about twenty feet away. Carmilla couldn't get to it, though not without lack of trying. She thrashed underneath her Mother, reaching out for the sword that would save her life.

She saw a flash of red before her Mother crumpled on top of her. Carmilla pushed her off, looking up to see Danny holding the sword.

"Thank me later, fangface." 

And with that, her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed onto the floor of the cave. 

\-------

After that Kirsch had run up, grabbing Danny and leaving Carmilla on the ground, unable to look away from the bodies of her Mother and Laura.

\-------

Eventually, Carmilla was able to get up.

She was able to stand on her still wobbly legs and walk out.

She was not, however, able to forget the images.

Her Mother, the women who had "raised" her for the past 400 years, was gone. She was gone and it was Carmilla's fault. 

She might not have been the one who administered the killing blow, but she was at fault. She was not exactly sad or mournful, but she felt something. Whether it was because of the duty she felt she had rejected or the feeling of relief to be free, she didn't know.

But she would remember the sight of Mother's dead eyes, deader than usual, staring at her for the second before Carmilla had pushed her off. She would remember the way her mother's body had splayed on the ground and she would remember the sword sticking out of her back.

It was a cowardly killing.

She didn't think Danny had cared at the time.

She didn't think Danny cared now, either.

Danny had killed her Mother, most likely out of revenge.

Carmilla's Mother had killed Laura.

Laura was dead.

She was lying, dead, on the ground of a pit that held their still undefeated foe.

Carmilla would never forget Laura's body, either.

Her face was frozen in a look of terror and pain. The gaping wounds along her arms, neck, and face had stopped bleeding after a while, since Laura had run out of blood. All of it had pooled around her body, spreading to the lip of the chasm. It had started dripping down, each time the light flickered and then brightened. 

Laura's beautiful, brown eyes had turned a lifeless shade of dark brown and her skin had paled to almost white. Her teeth had been stained with her own blood, as well as her lips.

Her clothes were ripped and blood stained, like the rest of her body.

Carmilla had been there long enough to see the last twitches of Laura's life drain from her.

Had been there long enough to see her fingers move closer, if only by a millimeter.

Had been there long enough to see her tongue try to move to her lips to lick them.

Had been there long enough to see her try to swallow, but choke on her blood instead.

Long enough to see her start to convulse as the rest of the blood drained from her body.

Long enough to not do anything.

Carmilla had stayed exactly where she had been when her mother had been trying to kill her or subdue her (she'd never really know which, now would she? If she had to bet on it, it was kill.)

She hadn't tried to say the spell or give her blood.

She'd simply done nothing.

She'd watched as the last little bits of life drained from the girl she loved.

And she did love her.

She had realised that as soon as she had tackled her mother.

She had loved Laura Hollis.

And now Laura Hollis was dead.

Now, Laura Hollis was lying in a cave with the person who killed her.

\-------

Carmilla was able to hold it together until she got to her (and not Laura's. Not anymore, thanks to her) dorm.

When she got there, though, she had broken down.

She had sunken into Laura's bed, sobs escaping her mouth, even though she tried to stop them. 

She had clutched Laura's pillow, the yellow one that smelt like the perfect mixture of Laura and herself. She had covered herself with Laura's blanket, that had tiny cookie crumbles still on it and smelt every little bit like Laura.

She stayed there, for hours upon hours, tears seeping out of her eyes and sobs and little whimpers escaping her throat. She couldn't make them stop, however hard she tried. 

She had only gotten up when the hunger pains were hurting like stabs in the stomach. She had gone to the small fridge in their-no, her- room and poured herself a glass of O-Neg., then returned to Laura's bed.

Her sobs had become controllable after that, but the tears hadn't stopped.

She sat in Laura's bed, tears streaming down her face, eyeliner smeared, hair messy, with a glass of blood in her hands and her knees curled up to her chest.

She sat there and she remembered.

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of an ask @honestlynatalie got on Tumblr.
> 
> http://honestlynatalie.tumblr.com/post/132882250182/i-want-carmilla-think-that-laura-is-dead-i-want


End file.
